Dear Katie:
by Kathoran
Summary: A series of letters written during World War II by James B Barnes to Katherine Rogers
1. Chapter 1

_May 3, 1943_

 _Dear Katie,_

 _You've got no clue how boring it is without you here. Not that I want you here—I'd much rather you stay put in America where you're safe._

 _I think you'd love Europe, though. London wasn't all that great; all gray skies and rain. The countryside was pretty, though. France was all green fields and blue skies; I think you'd have loved it. I mean, the fighting was horrible, but otherwise it was pretty._

 _I'm fine, by the way… damn, I don't want you to think I'm hurt, and I don't want for you to worry 'bout me. I know you've got your own troubles, what with school and keeping Steve out of trouble—by the way, be_ _careful_ — _I won't be there to help you if some creep tries to hurt you. Don't let Steve do anything stupid, alright? He should be getting his own letter soon, it's a lot shorter than this one, though._

 _Let's schedule another dance, what d'you say? Soon, I'll take you on a proper date. I'll write you again soon, Darlin'. Just know that I'm thinkin' 'bout you, and I'll be home before you know it._

 _-James B._


	2. Chapter 2

_July 4, 1943_

 _Katie, you've got no idea how strange it is to be celebrating today without you and Steve. Wish him a happy birthday for me, would you? Tell the old man to be careful. Did you know that no one over here celebrates Independence Day? The boys at camp mention it, but it's not as if there are fireworks and stuff. I guess England's still sore from losing the war._

 _The war over here's going well, I guess. It's no picnic, but none of my pals have died, and only a few've gotten shot. They're alive, though; I think Bill's going home soon cause of his injury._

 _Damn, I shouldn't have said that. Maybe I should just start saving up the letters that I mention the war in, keep you from worryin'. I dunno. I hope you're doin' good back home. You're out for summer now, I think; what're you doin'? I'm sure you're found somethin' to do; you always do. Eat lot a' ice cream for me this summer; not many opportunities for a malt over here. I got your letter—both a' them, actually. I'm sorry I didn't write sooner, there's been a lot of fighting lately._

 _And there I go again. I really am sorry, Angel, I don't mean to worry you. Just know that I'm safe, alright? And I'll be coming home soon; the boys say the war'll be over in a few months. Stay safe, alright? Stay outta trouble._

 _-James_


	3. Chapter 3

_August 7, 1943_

 _The war's not going too well, Katie. I don't want to worry you; I'm just being honest like you told me. I decided I'm not going to send this, or a few of the others; it'll be like a diary, I guess. I'm still sending you letters, as you know, but… I'm not gonna send these._

 _I'm scared. I don't like to admit it, but I'm scared. I don't wanna die, Katie. You tell Steve not to come over here, understand? Both of you need to stay the hell away. If either of you got hurt, I don't know what I'd do._

 _I haven't gotten hurt, thank God, but a lot of my friends have died here. You remember Frank Anderson from Manhattan? He got sick and died last week. Billy Joiner from downstairs, he got stuck on barbed wire in the field, was like a target for any Nazi bastard who wanted to take a shot at him. Adam Maze from down the street, his legs got blown off yesterday. His blood is still on my uniform. How can a guy go on after seeing all these things, Katie? Please, tell me how._

 _Y'know, it's getting harder and harder to remember that there's something out there besides the war. Couple a days ago a guy named Louis asked me what you looked like. I didn't have a problem with that one; no one could forget your face. But when I started talking to him, I realized I couldn't remember your voice. Your voice, Katie. How could I—_

 _I'm sorry, Katie. I'm real sorry. You told me to come home, and I'm trying my best, but… but even if I come home, I think a part of me will always be here. I don't know if I'll ever be able to leave this place, not fully. You don't deserve that, Katie. You deserve someone who's whole, not someone like me._

 _How can I come back to you like this? I know you've always wanted a family, kids, and I have too, but how can I be a good husband if I'm so messed up? I know I haven't even proposed yet… Y'know what? I'm not going to talk about this right now._

 _I dunno. I'm sorry. See? This is why I'm not mailing you these letters; I don't want you to worry about me. I don't want you to see what a coward I am. I'm not afraid of dying, Angel. Pain, either. I'm afraid of getting captured, and I'm afraid I'll never see you again. Pray for me, will you? Pray I'll come home to you._

 _-Your James_


	4. Chapter 4

September 30, 1943

Dear Katie,

We're about to move camps, so I don't now if I'll be getting your letters for a while. I'm not supposed to tell you this—but I guess it won't matter, since you're not gonna read this anyway—but we're going to head into Italy, some place called Azzano, I think. I'm in the 107th, as you know, and I've gotten to know my teammates a lot better. There are a few men I think you'd like: Dum-Dum and Gabe, especially. I'm one of the best snipers in the battalion, but you probably shouldn't know that, it'd make you worry more.

You probably just want to know how I'm doing. Well, I'm not dead yet.

Sorry, doll, I know you worry, it's just… nothing ever changes here. It's almost always raining, we can never see the sky—and when it isn't raining, it's bone dry without a gust of wind. It reeks here, smells like rotting flesh and blood and shit. There're corpses everywhere—last week there was a huge storm that uncovered bodies from last year's battle. As I write, my pals are moving injured into a truck outside.

I've gotten used to seeing bodies on the ground. They're everywhere—in the creeks, in the fields, in the trenches—we walked clean through a swamp without getting so much as a drop of water on our boots; there were so many dead in the water. No one should ever get used to that. If I had to describe hell, this would be it. There's so much death, Katie. I hope you never have to see anything this horrible.

But how are you doing? I got your last letter… I can't believe you've graduated from school already. I always knew you were bright, but graduating a year early? I'm so proud of you, Darlin.

How is Steve doing? You keeping him out of trouble? You said in your last letter that he got accepted in the Army—were you joking? I hope you were joking. I hope he hasn't gotten in any fights lately, though some of the others might be picking on him for his size. Are you home alone, or did you find a way to go to boot camp with him? Doll, you listen to me: stay away from the other man there. They haven't seen a woman in weeks, and even though they should be treating you like a princess, they won't, so you stay safe, you here? If anyone touches you, I'll come straight back and kick their asses. Or maybe I'll wait till they get over here and I'll sick a Nazi bastard on him, let the two of them fight it out.

See, I'm actually gonna sent you that part, I'll just have to find some more paper and stuff.

I miss you, Katie. Don't worry about me, alright? I'll be fine.

I love you.

Have I told you that before? I don't know if I have. Well first thing that's gonna happen when I get home is that I'm gonna grab you up and kiss you right on the lips. And if I ever let you go, I'm gonna tell you that I love you, and I'm never gonna stop. Until then, I'll keep it a secret, just you and me.

I love you, Katie.

-Your James


	5. Chapter 5

_March 9, 1944_

 _Dear Katie,_

 _I don't know why I'm still writing these, since you live down the hall from me and all, but I guess writing to you is a tough habit to break. First off, I want to say that you are the most reckless and bullheaded young woman I've ever met. Did you really think that you could sneak into HYDRA? You could have died! I told you and Steve both to stay the hell away, and what did you do? You paraded straight on in there and nearly got yourself killed!_

 _I'm not worth that, Katie. I'm not worth dying for._

 _When I saw you in that factory… you've no idea what that felt like. You were awake at the time, fighting like the soldier you've always been, but they were stronger. They dragged you past me in that lab, and I lost it. I fought like hell trying to get to you, but I couldn't reach you. I remember hearing you scream… and then the next thing I knew, you and Steve were standing over me._

 _But we're safe now, and I'm not leaving you again. I'm sorry I missed your birthday. I can't believe you've seventeen. Almost a legal adult, yeah? It's more I can't believe that I love someone so much younger than me. I'm glad of it—I wouldn't want to marry an old crone—but it makes it hard since I want to wait until you're an adult to propose. Maybe I'll propose on your birthday. Hopefully the war will be over, and we'll get married soon after. Wouldn't that be something. We've talked about kids—I know you use to talk about kids all the time, even before I fell for you. You wanted a bunch of 'em, and I do too—Maybe a few boys and girls. The girls'll look like you, the boys like me. Maybe one of each'll take after the other parent._

 _Colonel Phillips is calling. Probably another mission; Steve's set on taking hYDRA down after what they did to you. And so am I. Hopefully I'll be able to convince you to stay home this time, but I doubt it. You're quite the stubborn dame, you know that? And I love you for it, Darlin._

 _I love you, Angel._

 _Your James_


End file.
